was out at a mega secret spot recently. it was peaky and warbly and not real good but the novelty of its secrecy was enough to make us happy to be there. it was raining and super foggy that day. our friend z. bush -aka Mr. Bush, aka Fog Snapper, aka Slim Mack, happened to be there this day and took a few furtive shots.
Slim Mack would be the first to admit that this photo ain’t worth nothin either -surfiwise or otherwise. but being as I like to see myself in photos standing on a surfboard pretending to know what I’m doing, and that my ego is just so that I ‘curate’ this here personal blog which is sometimes (admittedly not often) about topics aside from surfing, I begged and pleaded for a digitized copy that I could post here for the three of you who stop here from time to time -or the unsuspecting search engine noob who gets snared by my keyword fantasticnes, into landing on these pixels floating in neverland cyberspace.
nothing else to report at this time. no waves. no inspirational moments today. still waiting though. send me an email with the winning lotto numbers. rasblog at gmail. yeah I’m talking to you Nostradamus. I knows your out there watching over us, laughing at our coming demise. I bet you never saw the fat (obesity) epidemic coming though did ya? shit. can you imagine the hospitals in 20 years, rooms overflowing with rolls of unwashed and bed-sore fat, the smell of putrid flatulence permeating the pores of all those who’d come near. supersize it biaatch.